


(Don't) Say My Name

by emmykay



Category: ALL OUT!! - Amase Shiori (Anime & Manga)
Genre: Cuddles, Hand Jobs, M/M, Oral Sex, Porn with Feelings, they're in love
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-11-30
Updated: 2016-11-30
Packaged: 2018-09-03 08:29:36
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,177
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8705101
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/emmykay/pseuds/emmykay
Summary: There's a reason why Hachiouji never says Sekizan's name in public.





	

It started with a "Say my name, Mutsumi."

That's the way it always starts. It would be late, and they would be at Sekizan's house, where they had walked after school, after practice, after dinner. Sekizan's parents worked late, and even then, they would make sure nobody could come into Sekizan's bedroom. Sekizan would lock the door behind them. After that, Sekizan would walk closer to him, crowding him a little, so close he could feel the heat coming off his skin, and Mutsumi would be wonderfully overwhelmed by the intensity of his look, of his looking at him.

Mutsumi wasn't a small person, but Sekizan made him feel small, delicate. Sekizan would press his face against Mutsumi's neck, and Mutsumi could feel the softness of his lips, the heat of his breath. 

"Say my name."

Mutsumi couldn't say no. He would say, softly, because it was hard to say Sekizan's name, because it meant so much. Because he would shiver a little, because of what he knew would happen after. Tripping out over his teeth, his tongue and jaw working to push the sound out. "Ta-Taku - "

And then, over the thundering of his pulse in his ears, of his own breathing he'd hear Sekizan's deep inhale, and see Sekizan's eyelids dropping, and feel the quickening breathing that lead Sekizan's chest to touch Mutsumi's own. 

"Mutsumi," Sekizan says, after rewarding him with a kiss. "I love hearing you say my name."

He loves hearing Sekizan say good things to him, about him. Only for him. "Ta-taku."

"Can I?"

He nods. Big calloused hands are on his ass, pulling them towards himself, and Mutsumi can feel the ridge already hardening there, through the fabric of his trousers. Mutsumi can't help it, he wriggles, rubs up against that defined rigidity, feeling himself growing, a wanting, a hunger that's getting worse and worse. 

Sekizan's voice drops to a low rumble, coming from deep in his torso. "So good." 

Mutsumi is not sure which one of them started it, but it's more likely that Sekizan is the one pulling up his shirt, rubbing the newly exposed skin over his back, his side, his shoulders, his stomach. "You're so soft. Your skin."

The first time this happened, Mutsumi was embarrassed that anyone should see him like this. He's not embarrassed about his size - it's what makes him a good player, what makes him intimidating. It's not about his arms or his legs or back. It's the other parts. His big belly, the extra flesh of his already wide chest, the heaviness of his ass and thighs. 

Sekizan was, is continually, completely enthralled, pressing his face against the skin, tasting all over Mutsumi's body, biting at his neck, his shoulders, his eager nipples. Endlessly commenting on the pleasure Sekizan received by seeing him like this, by seeing Mutsumi's pleasure. Sekizan loves the contrast between the soft skin, the tender tissue just underneath, and then the hard muscle and bone still further below. 

Sekizan called, continues to call, him 'delicious.' 'Beautiful.' 'Strong.'

Mutsumi knows it's Sekizan that's truly delicious, beautiful, strong. The flare of Sekizan's hips under Mutsumi's hands never failed to delight. Nor the firm muscles of his back. There is the way Sekizan moved, even the flip of hair as he threw his hair back - Mutsumi memorized it all. He loves Sekizan's smell, sweaty and animal and good, around the neck and down his carved torso, and the musk of his cock and balls wafting up over the loose band of his pants and boxers as Mutsumi reaches down to grab. (There's always extra room, Sekizan's pants never fit him right.)

Sekizan hisses, his stomach muscles quivering, and Mutsumi can't believe he has this kind of power over the man in front of him. A burble of delighted laughter escapes him, Sekizan looks at him, smiling, his eyebrows drawn down together. "You're laughing? At me?"

"Oh, no - " and Mutsumi can't help it. His eyes closed as he tries not to laugh more, but the sounds escape his mouth anyway.

Long fingers extend and tickle, and Mutsumi convulses - which causes Sekizan to gasp. Mutsumi's still holding him and when he realizes this, he abruptly releases. "Sorry, sorry - "

"You'll be sorry - " Finding no satisfaction in his last move, Sekizan pops the button on Mutsumi's pants, and laughs to himself as he grasps Mutsumi's cock in his own hand. "That's one good thing about you never doing up your belt. It's never in the way."

There's no way Mutsumi can answer - it's his turn to gasp. Sekizan is rubbing his thumb over the slickness at the slit, and it's all Mutsumi can do to keep standing up, his knees are shaking.

"I want to have you in my mouth - " and Mutsumi shoves his own fist in his mouth as Sekizan follows the words with action, kneeling down, unzipping and pushing the fabric aside. There's a brief rush of air, and then it's replaced by the heat of Sekizan against him. Mutsumi looks down, and it's an image that shakes him, that hair over his lap, the hand, those lips. He wants to never forget, however many times this has happened. Sekizan's mouth is hot, wet, sucking - the sounds he's making are obscene, and Mutsumi is beside himself. It's so good. _So good._

"Come up, come up," Mutsumi says, putting his hands on Sekizan's shoulders.

"So soon?" Sekizan is looking up, a sweaty strand of hair on his cheek.

Mutsumi's nodding. It's always too soon. "I can't help it." 

Sekizan doesn't seem to mind. They're kissing, wet and slick and open-mouthed. Mutsumi can taste Sekizan, he can taste himself. They stand together, hands on each other, and it only takes a few firm, full strokes of Sekizan's big hands before he's flying apart, crying into Sekizan's mouth. 

"Do you want me to do you? In my - my mouth?" He shouldn't be embarrassed to say it, but it seems too much, too silly, too ridiculous, too intimate, too much of what they both might want, uncertain of what he might offer if this isn't what Sekizan wants.

"Your hand," Sekizan says, shoving his own clothes out of the way. "I want to see your face."

Mutsumi spits into his own hand, and a few moments later, Sekizan is breathing hard, grunting and shaking in Mutsumi's arms. They hold each other, breathing, waiting for the aftershocks and the trembling to subside.

It's only when he realizes they're both still partially dressed, clothes at their ankles, shirts half-off - that it must look ridiculous, he looks ridiculous. He glances upward, and Sekizan is looking down at him, his hair mussed and stuck of his face. He's wearing a smile so tender that Mutsumi's heart wrenches in his chest. Sekizan looks beautiful.

Sekizan lowers his face for a kiss, and they kiss some more, soft and warm. Mutsumi forgets that they're half-clothed, he forgets everything but Sekizan's touch.

"Say my name, Mutsumi."

"Taku." 

It's these things that Mutsumi will remember. And that has been, is, reward enough for both of them.

**Author's Note:**

> Just trying to do my part to bring more tenderness and cuddles and porn to this fandom.


End file.
